Don't Ask, Don't Tell
by starrrz
Summary: Jonno learns the hard way that keeping secrets isn't always the best way forward.
1. Chapter 1

_This first chapter was originally posted in 'drabbles'. I just felt inspired to continue it._

* * *

At fourteen, just thinking about Vlad Count gave Jonno a headache. And it wasn't because Vlad was a total weirdo. At least, that wasn't the only reason.

It felt like there was something he was missing when he thought of him, something he couldn't quite remember. Vlad's family had just upped sticks one night, and disappeared, and it didn't matter how many people Mrs. Harker called into her office to have a chat about it, they were never any the wiser.

His dad talked about it at breakfast, said there was something very odd about it. His mother just laughed, and kissed his cheek and told him not to be so silly.

Jonno didn't know why, it wasn't like there was any evidence, but for once he felt inclined to agree with his father.

If Vlad Count gave him a headache, then he was driving Robin Branagh potty. Robin had always been weird. Tommo Watson had told him, not long after he had first moved to Stokely, that Robin had once been suspended for dissecting a frog during a maths lesson.

Since Vlad had left he had only grown weirder. He was deathly pale, and the bags under his eyes were so dark even the class bullies had largely given up on him. Jonno wouldn't have cared all that much, not really, except his mum was the school counsellor, and friends with Robin's into the bargain.

Before he knew what was happening, it had all been arranged, and he was trudging up the hill early on Saturday morning to go and see Robin, because 'you'd love to, wouldn't you, Jonno?'

One of Robin's brothers answered the door, he had never been sure which was which back then, and Mrs. Branagh had ushered him upstairs and hovered behind him on the landing, waiting for Robin's bedroom door to open.

Jonno had felt unaccountably anxious himself, shifting from foot to foot and swallowing when Robin finally yanked the door open.

"Jonno's come round to spend the day with you," Mrs. Branagh said, too brightly, and Jonno winced internally. No teenager could resist kicking off to an introduction that patronising. But Robin didn't say anything, just stepped aside silently and, when he was inside, shut the door behind him.

It was like he was in a trance, almost, though Robin looked tense and uncomfortable.

"I brought the new _Zombie Annihilator_ game," Jonno offered when it became clear Robin wasn't going to say anything. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for the foresight. They had played computer games that time Robin had come round the caravan for tea. Robin had even been quite good, if he remembered correctly.

Robin took an age to set the game up, and sat stiffly next to him on the edge of his bed when he was finished. Up close Jonno could see that Robin was faring even worse than he had originally thought. His skin looked more grey than white, and he had lost a lot of weight. The Robin he had had a banterous animosity with could never have been accused of not eating enough.

He tried to concentrate on the screen instead of on Robin, and won the first two games easily. They were halfway through the third, and had just been vamped for the duration, when Robin finally started to take a real interest. Jonno pounded at the control pad, and pushed his hands through his hair in frustration when 'winner' flashed across Robin's half of the screen.

He would have sulked, or said that the game was stupid anyway, but Robin smiled – a real, genuine, smile – and he couldn't be angry. He broke out in a smile of his own, argued for a rematch, and felt that he understood why his mum was always so happy, if this was what it was like to help people.

They started hanging out more and more after that, until one night Jonno realised with a shock that there hadn't been an evening all week on which he hadn't seen Robin. They had been sat on his bed in the caravan as the thought occurred to him, homework spread out in front of them, and Jonno watched as Robin's pencil moved across the page of his sketchbook. It revealed a face that made him scowl with something that felt like, but couldn't be, jealousy.

Robin must have felt his gaze because he said,

"He was supposed to be my best friend. He never even wrote to me."

"Maybe he didn't have your address," Jonno said, though the knowledge only made him feel angrier.

Robin looked up at him then, eyebrow raised, and Jonno had the good grace to shrug apologetically.

"I don't know what was wrong with me when he left. It was like something that should have been there was missing. I can't explain it."

They had never spoken about it before, about the way Robin had spent months drifting about like an animated corpse. Jonno touched his hand to Robin's arm, because he wanted to be comforting. Because he just wanted to.

Neither of them moved for a long moment, just stared at each other, long past the point when it should have been too awkward. Robin was the first to move, tearing his gaze back to his artwork.

"We're supposed to be drawing something that represents our past," he said, quiet but determined. "That's what Vlad is to me." Robin glanced up at him as he said it, and Jonno couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He didn't know _why _he wanted Vlad to be Robin's ancient history, what mattered was that Vlad was.

Looking back he was always surprised at how long it had taken him to work it out, but at the time it had just seemed another confusing teenage thing. It only really hit him when he was fifteen and he woke, flushed and breathless, from the kind of dream he was never going to let his mother talk over with him. It wasn't that it hadn't happened before, because even the booklet they had been given at school had said it was normal. It was just that they definitely hadn't featured Robin before.

He rolled it over and over his mind, just in case it had been one of those weird dream things. Like the time he had dreamt he really wanted to be a ballerina in a pink tutu. It didn't take long for it to hit home that it wasn't. It really really wasn't, and he had to excuse himself from the dinner table before his dad could ask too many questions about why he was blushing.

The question he had for himself was what he was going to do about it. Because it didn't necessarily follow that Robin wouldn't punch him in the nose were he to sit the other boy down and say, 'hey, I've had a revelation'. He worried at it, on and on, and started to feel on edge when Robin was around. In case he was being obvious, in case Robin could just tell anyway.

"Have I done something?" Robin asked one evening, when they were sat in the Branagh's front room watching television. The rest of the family were out at meetings, and Scouts, and rugby practice, and Jonno felt guilty even as his stomach fluttered, the result of Robin looking up at him, all indignant hurt. "It's like you don't even want to spend time with me."

He was sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, afraid of what might happen were he to sit as close as he wanted to. Except all it was doing was making both of them miserable. If he were to tell Robin, he reasoned, and then even if Robin said no only one of them would be miserable. He didn't even want to think about when he had become such a sap of a pushover.

Jonno shifted closer, and forced himself to meet Robin's gaze steadily. He was a Van Helsing. He could do this. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth… And then there was frantic banging at the front door, getting louder and louder, and they both rushed to answer it.

His mother was stood on the doorstep, pale face streaked with mascara. It was bad, really bad, and when she said,

"He's dead, Jonno,"

It was only Robin's hold that stopped him from retching all over the pavement.

The next few weeks were a blur, a surreal blur that he kept wishing, over and over, was just a nightmare he was going to wake up from. He didn't and the day of the funeral dawned wet and grey, like even the weather was commiserating. His voice caught when he tried to read the eulogy, and Robin put an arm around him, without asking, when he sank back down onto the pew, legs shaking.

Robin was still at his side when two black suited figures approached, and asked if they could speak to him.

Alone.

He nodded, managing a wan smile for Robin, and trailed outside after them, only to find his mother sitting with someone who definitely wasn't there for the wake. She was wearing what almost looked like military uniform, and the two men who had been sent to fetch him were obviously waiting to take their cue from her.

"Agent Francine Palmer," she said curtly, flashing a laminated card at him. "I'm representing the Slayer's Guild."

Jonno had looked to his mum, hoping to silently convey: she's a total loony. But his mum's face was set, grim like he had never seen her.

"I'm sorry to have to break it to you like this," Francine said, directed at him alone, "but time is of the essence. Your father was killed by vampires."

His initial reaction had been laughter. It was idiotic, he wasn't going to believe it. But they had shown him proof, and taken him to their headquarters. Let him watch as Agent Palmer drove a stake through a flea infested specimen they had captured the previous evening.

Back home he couldn't sleep, thoughts racing, and Robin answered the phone before he could think better of the idea and sat with him through the early hours, too close and too _everything_, so that he couldn't resist pressing their lips together. Robin didn't punch him, or push him away, and they fell asleep fully clothed but wrapped around each other.

Exams were approaching, like a steam roller, and he knew he was going to fail because every spare moment he didn't spend with Robin; he spent at the nearest Guild headquarters. Eventually he had no choice but to accept what they had told him, to agree to sit still and let them stick things to his temple, and his fingers, and screw his eyes tight shut as thousands of memories flooded over his senses.

Vlad was the Chosen One. Vlad had untold power. Vlad was responsible for his dad's death and had left Robin to waste away, like a pet he had grown bored of. He didn't hesitate with his answer when they invited him to train as a true slayer, and he didn't flinch – at least not noticeably – when he bagged his first bloodsucker.

Robin hugged him tight when he got back from what he had told him was a summer camp, and he couldn't help but beam with pride when Robin explained about _them_ to his sister, and his parents, and his brothers.

"Don't know what he sees in you," Paul told Robin, as way of approval.

"You sure you haven't had a nasty bump to the head?" Ian asked him, adding his blessing. "He looks like something out of a horror movie."

Jonno looked Robin over; he supposed the word was 'gothic'. "I think he looks hot in all that black," he said in response, just to show he could give as good as he got, and Chloe rolled her eyes and sighed,

"Get a room, will you."

They had to move away, he knew. Had to fight against the scourge and find the Draculas. Robin looked angry when he told him they were leaving, lying about his mum finding a new job though he had promised Robin there would be no secrets between them.

"So you're just ditching me then?" Robin accused hotly. "Don't worry, I won't sit around waiting for your letter."

The words made Jonno's throat ache, like the first time Robin had admitted how completely Vlad had just upped and forgotten about him.

"Of course I'm not ditching you," he said, and it sounded more forceful than he'd intended. He took a breath, started again, "I'm not moving to the other end of the world. I'm still going to come and see you, every chance I get. I –" He cut himself off, before he said something he didn't think Robin was ready for.

They kissed and made up, and then kissed some more, just for good measure. They kissed until he felt dizzy, and he didn't know if it was always supposed to be like that, or if it was just the effect Robin had on him.

"I'm going to miss you," Robin whispered, later, like he didn't want to be soppy too loudly, and Jonno grinned and pulled him closer and said,

"I bet I'll miss you more, you know."

Their new flat was only marginally bigger than the caravan, and he scraped onto a course at the local college, because he needed a cover. It was a relief, really, because it meant he had something to complain about, when Robin rang to bend his ear about art, and film studies, and photography.

"I want to do something creative," Robin told him, accent sounding thicker when it came out of Jonno's handset. "I don't want to end up a plumber."

"I'd hire you," Jonno said, giving up on his half written coursework. "You can come round and see to my pipes anytime."

"I can't believe you just said that," Robin laughed, and Jonno stretched out on his bed and smiled at the ceiling, and talked for so long he never finished the essay and got kicked out of the college. They moved again, so it didn't matter, and he told Robin that he'd just decided English wasn't for him, after all.

He spent a week at the Branaghs, supposedly fishing for info on the fire at the castle and Ingrid's disappearance. In truth, he barely thought of anything but Robin, and they sat on the swings in the old play park, looking up at the castle ruins and talking.

"I wish you could stay," Robin said, out of nowhere, and Jonno scuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground and said,

"When you're finished with uni and that, we could move in together."

He could have kicked himself once the words were out of his mouth, because there was moving too fast, and then there was picking out wallpaper patterns and baby names. But Robin just smiled, and swung a little harder as he said,

"I'd like that. It would be awesome."

They finally got a lead on the Dracula's whereabouts and he found himself face to face with the one individual he'd happily stake, whether or not he was a vampire.

"Good to see you," he lied, and he wished that it wasn't so easy to kill a vampire, because he wanted Vlad to suffer. It felt like revenge, watching Ingrid struggle to control her temper. And like justice when Erin approached them afterwards, offering her help in slaying them.

"Did you do anything interesting today?" Robin asked over the phone that night, and Jonno thought of Ingrid's expression as he'd presented her with that tutu, and the look of fear on Vlad's face when he first saw him. Aloud he said,

"No. Watched some telly, groomed my moustache. Man things, you wouldn't understand."

He could picture Robin pulling a face and grinned, waiting for it. Robin didn't disappoint him.

"It's a good job I love you," Robin told him, sounding long suffering. "Otherwise I might be tempted to attack you with a razor."

"Sounds vicious," Jonno quipped, and wished Robin wasn't quite so far away.

"You would tell me," Robin started after a moment, tone different now. Serious. "If there was something going on, wouldn't you? Even if you think I wouldn't be happy. I'd rather know about it."

Jonno thought of the Guild, and of the web of lies he kept weaving Robin. He was no better than Vlad in some ways. He knew how to remove the mind wipe. Could let Robin make the decision of what to do about his memories. He wouldn't though, he was certain.

Because he didn't want Robin to be put in danger. Wouldn't let Robin become a target.

"Oh, Robin. There's nothing going on. Honest." He said instead, all the while knowing the truth. He wouldn't tell Robin the truth because he was a coward.

Because there was still a chance that, when it came down to it, Robin would choose Vlad over him.


	2. Chapter 2

_I imagine there are another two or three chapters to come before this is finished ~_

* * *

It was almost unfathomable, slayers and vampires living together in harmony. But that was what Vlad said he wanted, what Erin assured him in every message they exchanged, what the Guild had agreed to.

Officially, at any rate.

Unofficially, of course, few considered the Treaty worth the paper it was written on. The vampires needed close watching, the Grand High Vampire around the clock surveillance. It was Kurt who told him that he had been volunteered to enrol at Garside Grange and try to get an insider's view on the situation.

"This is only the eye before the storm, mark my words," his mum said.

"They will be using this time to build up their forces," Agent Palmer told him.

"If you won't let us restore his memories," Kurt took him aside to say, knowing more than most, "then the kindest thing you can do is end it now. He'll be a target."

The words played on his mind all through the long bus journey to Stokely. It was too dangerous, he reasoned. He couldn't bear to have even the slightest injury to Robin on his conscience. But he would be careful, would keep Robin safe from all of it.

As the bus pulled into the station Jonno was forced to admit that ultimately he was selfish, and he would never take the step unless he was physically force to.

Still everything conspired against him. The Guild wouldn't leave him alone, and when it wasn't Kurt or Agent Palmer on the end of the phone, it was Erin asking him questions and making conversation, as if their entire friendship wasn't built on his current assignment description.

Robin seemed constantly tired and standoffish, and Mrs Branagh told him over breakfast that she thought he must be ill, because all he wanted to do was shut himself up in his room and sleep all the time. Mr Branagh only snorted, and said,

"Robin's problem is that he's lazy, there's nothing else wrong with him."

They went to a club night in town, because Jonno knew Robin's friends would be there, and if Robin wouldn't tell him himself, then surely one of them would know what the issue was. Except even there he couldn't just enjoy it, because one of them had set up residence in the corner, men who didn't know any better flocking around her. She was beautiful, they often were, with blood red lips and snow white skin, but the sight of her only turned his stomach, though he watched and watched, for any sign that the treaty was on the verge of being broken.

At least he watched until Robin noticed, and before he knew what was happening they were having a full blown argument in front of a crowd that included Robin's best friend, and both of his brothers.

"You don't understand," Jonno tried, pleading.

"I'm not blind," Robin countered, angry like Jonno had never known him. "If this isn't what you want, you could at least have the decency to tell me."

She sidled up to him as Robin stormed away, smirking in amusement. "All this over little old me, slayer?" She pouted, laughter barely concealed, and when he whirled around nobody else noticed the garlic tipped stake he pressed against her flesh, or heard the way he hissed,

"Nobody would miss you then, I take it?"

Ordinarily he'd take pride in the way she couldn't mask her fear, but he couldn't find it in him to care, instead concentrating on telling Paul and Andrew and the others that it was fine, and that he was going to find Robin and sort things out. Properly.

He found Robin at the bus station, dejected and shivering. Jonno sat on the bench beside him and unzipped his own jacket, settling for draping it around Robin's shoulders when the other boy made no attempt to take it from him.

"I didn't fancy her," he said, not knowing where else to start. Robin shrugged, gaze fixed on something in the middle distance.

"I don't care if you did. I'm not your keeper, Jonno."

"You're being stupid," he sighed, because the entire scenario was ridiculous. Robin turned to glare at him, eyes flashing with the anger from earlier.

"Am I? Tell me who Erin is then."

* * *

"Erin is just a friend," Jonno explained for the third time, angry that Robin didn't trust him, would look through his contacts in the first place. It was cold, the air was damp, and they had ignored the bus as if the service wasn't only hourly. Robin had given in and put his jacket on, though it was the sort of thing he wouldn't normally be seen dead in, and when he started fidgeting with the cuffs Jonno realised with a start that he was less angry and more terrified that Robin would find out that his mistrust was well founded. "I swear it," he found himself saying, "I wouldn't lie to you."

Robin looked unconvinced and though he hadn't meant to say it the words were tumbling from his lips before he could stop them,

"I love you."

He had always imagined the timing would be more romantic, like it was on TV, but Robin finally looked at him rather than through him.

"Do you mean it?"

Jonno fought the urge to squirm, to retract the statement in case he was about to be made to look an idiot. Instead he nodded, all jittery hope and baited breath.

Robin clung to him in response, ice cold fingers at the back of his neck, and then they were kissing, desperate, and Jonno couldn't keep the stupid grin off his face all night, not after Robin broke for air long enough to tell him,

"I love you too, I have done for ages."

* * *

"I wish you didn't have to go," Robin told him as he watched him pack to go back to Liverpool. To go back to rubbing shoulders with unadulterated evil.

"I'll miss you," Jonno said in return.

"You better had."

And he did, rang Robin every night and felt frustrated and hard done by every time the call went through to voice mail, only for Robin to text him apologies the following morning, claiming he hadn't been able to stay awake. At those times he threw himself into everything else he had to do because he had his assignment, and his coursework, and he made friends easily enough, for perhaps the first time, and though the guilt gnawed at him, he didn't tell them about Robin, even when they asked if he had a girlfriend because he couldn't stop checking his mobile. It was for Robin's protection, he told himself. It was to better fit in, that was the reality.

"That blonde bird really fancies you," Aaron said, not needing to elaborate for them all to know who he was talking about. "It's obvious."

Jonno let his gaze wander across the school canteen, to where Erin was sat with Vlad's sister and wondered if she was really open enough to not simply be playing a game. Her father was a hero, had dusted more vampires than your average despatch team combined. Yet there she was, quite literally sleeping with the enemy.

Genuine or not, the time they spent together was enough for Vlad to glare jealously at him every time they passed in the corridors. He couldn't help but glare back for everything he had done to Robin, for everything he would do to Erin.

"I don't know how you can stand it," he said to her one evening, when Vlad was too busy training with Bertrand du Fortunesa - a vampire he ached to dust every time he laid eyes on him - to keep his own girlfriend entertained. "Living with them, when you know all the things they've done."

"Vlad hasn't done anything," Erin said, tone soft but defiant.

Jonno just shook his head, and snorted. "You don't know the half of it."

* * *

He was sat beside Erin when a message came from reception to tell him he was wanted, immediately.

Du Fortunesa let him leave, but only reluctantly, and Aaron shot him a look that could mean only one thing: 'lucky sod'.

For his part every step came with a feeling of complete and utter dread. Anything could have happened. What was waiting was shocking, but not for the reasons he had feared.

"What are you doing here!?"

Robin scowled. "You could at least pretend to be pleased to see me."

The bell for dinner had rung somewhere along the journey, and Robin explained that he had wanted to surprise him by coming up for half term as they made their way back towards the History department. How they had an INSET day, and seeing as he didn't know how to find his way to his address, he had thought it would be easier to meet him at the school instead.

Erin was talking something over with du Fortunesa when they reached the classroom, and Jonno collected his books together silently, cringing when Robin answered du Fortunesa's icy,

"You're not one of our students," with,

"I'm just here to meet Jonno. I'm his boyfriend."

He saw the way Erin's gaze widened, and the way du Fortunesa sized Robin up, like he was planning how he could best use this knowledge to his advantage, and he left the room as quickly as he could, not waiting to see whether Robin was following.

They fell into step somewhere near the main gates, and though he knew it was his problem Jonno couldn't ignore the self righteous indignation at being outed churning in his stomach.

"If you don't want me here," Robin said finally, "I can go and catch the train home. I'm not bothered."

His tone and stiff posture said otherwise and Jonno stopped, really looking at him for the first time since their disastrous meeting. What he saw was enough for the last of the resentment to drain away. Robin was pale, much paler than usual, and there were deep, dark rings under his eyes. It reminded Jonno of the way he had looked in the aftermath of the Dracula's departure, when the stunt Vlad had pulled had left him little better than a zombie.

"You look ill," was what he said, shocked enough to forget all about being tactful.

Robin shrugged, looked away, but Jonno took his bag from him with little enough argument.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Robin admitted when they got back to the poky little flat he was sharing with his mother. She was away on what was ostensibly a training course - new recruits needed someone to show them which way up a stake ought to go - so Jonno made tea and sandwiches, and watched in concern at the way Robin scarcely took two bites out of one.

"You're wasting away," he half joked, because the closer they sat, the more obvious it was that Robin had lost weight.

"I'm just not very hungry," Robin said in response, and there was something in the way he said it that made Jonno choose to kiss the moment away, rather than have to contemplate any of the awful potential reasons why Robin sounded so afraid of that statement.

"That was Erin earlier, wasn't it?" Robin asked later, when he'd left the washing up because he could get away with it, and they were wrapped around each other in his bedroom. It made sense, suddenly, why Robin had been so keen to announce the fact they were more than good friends to anyone within earshot. "She's pretty."

"I prefer the gothic look myself," Jonno said, glad he had had the foresight to switch his phone off and wasn't about to receive any calls that could start an argument. "All the black and bad metal, it does things to a man."

"You love it really," Robin mumbled, half asleep though clingy like Jonno could never remember him being.

"Of course I do," Jonno responded easily. He pressed a kiss into Robin's messy hair, and watched him sleep, and pledged to whoever or whatever might be listening that he wouldn't allow anything or anyone to come between them.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks so much to everyone taking the time to read! :)_

* * *

He woke to more messages on his mobile than he knew what to do with. A text from his mum reminding him there was some casserole in the freezer, and one from Aaron asking where he had disappeared to, and warning him that there were crazy rumours circulating, about some emo kid telling everyone he was his boyfriend, proving that corridor had been anything but empty.

And then there were dozens of missed phone calls from Erin, with accompanying text messages telling him to ring back, because it was urgent.

It felt like his blood was freezing in his veins, and he left Robin snoring to ring her in the kitchen, as if that could somehow ensure Robin's safety.

"Has it started?" He managed the instant Erin answered, trying to brace himself for the extent of the carnage the bloodsuckers had already wrecked.

"Has what started?" Erin asked, confused. Before he could respond she went on, "Jonno, you need to come to the school. I really can't explain over the phone."

It wasn't quite sinking in. "The Treaty is still in place." He wasn't sure himself if it was a question or a statement.

"Of course it is." Erin sounded slightly exasperated. "Are you going to come or not?"

Jonno glanced at the clock; 9 o' clock on a Saturday morning. It was quite impressive to have averted world war three before breakfast. He nodded and, when he realised she couldn't actually see him, said,

"Yeah. Yeah, alright. Give me half hour."

When he went back to his bedroom to dress Robin was still asleep, so deeply it took Jonno three attempts to wake him.

"I've got to go out for a bit," he apologised, for the words, and for the bleary look of confusion on Robin's face. "I can walk with you into town, if you like, and meet you there afterwards."

Robin just frowned at him, more asleep than awake, and said simply,

"I want to go back to sleep."

That, Jonno thought as he hung Guild issue garlic crosses over his bedroom door for good measure, solved that problem.

* * *

Erin met him at the gate and when, "you didn't bring Robin?" was the first thing out of her mouth the feeling of dread increased threefold. He didn't even know how Erin knew Robin's name in the first place.

"I suppose it doesn't matter," Erin continued, more to herself, and Jonno couldn't ignore the way she wouldn't meet his eye, or the awkward silence between them, as they made their way across the deserted playground.

"What's going on?" Jonno finally demanded as they neared the entrance to the Draculas' quarters.

Erin squirmed. "Bertrand can explain it better," she said, and suddenly Jonno wished he had had the sense to put a call through, and have a despatch team on standby.

Du Fortunesa was waiting for them, and endless hours in the Guild training rooms told Jonno that he was barely in control of his temper. The air in the room felt charged, and Erin made an effort to sit in the chair farthest away, twisting her fingers together anxiously. Vlad was the room's only other occupant, his entire demeanour giving him away as the selfish git Jonno had always known him to be.

"He was supposed to bring the boy with him," du Fortunesa accused, directing the words at Erin, and before Erin could defend herself Vlad was on his feet.

"You must have done something to him, Van Helsing. Tricked him into it." They were near nose to nose now. "He can't stand you."

The anger was all consuming, he felt like he could remove Vlad with his bare hands if he had to. He settled for shoving Vlad, surprise at anyone daring to do so enough for Vlad to stumble a step backwards. "Things change," he hissed. "It's you he can't stand, Dracula."

Vlad would have killed him, he supposed. Had the strength to wrench a slayer limb from limb, that was what the handbook said, should a slayer be fool enough to get close enough to let him do it. But du Fortunesa laid a hand upon Vlad's shoulder, a single look enough for Vlad to throw himself back into the chair he had been sitting in, sullen.

"I'm sure you're aware that the Coronation is now but weeks away," du Fortunesa began, like he was starting a classroom lecture on industrialisation and not the beginning of the end. "Even the Guild can't be that uninformed." He held a hand up, forestalling any interruptions, and continued, "It's a very complex ceremony, everything must be carried out to the letter."

It was a very pretty story, Jonno thought, but it meant nothing to him. He glanced around the room; Vlad was scowling at the floor, so that he could almost believe Erin's insistence that Vlad was afraid of the responsibility about to be dropped on his shoulders. Erin was fidgeting, tearful, and when Bertrand made to continue she spoke in a sudden rush,

"He's defiled the Crown of Power. Tradition says they have to sacrifice him."

Jonno laughed, he couldn't help it. It was too ludicrous. The whole point of those stories was that you couldn't defile the Crown of Power, not without being reduced to a pile of ash next to it. Nobody lived to tell the tale; Aleksander Glog had gone down as one of the most famous slayers in history precisely because he self-combusted the instant he attempted to prevent the coronation of the 14th Grand High Vampire by making a grab for the Crown of Power.

Vlad fixed him with a look cold enough to sober. "It isn't funny."

This time it was Jonno who took a step back, the enormity of it sinking in. "No," he shook his head. "You're lying, you must be."

Vlad pushed his hands through his hair, human enough to be unnerving. "I let him_ wear_ it."

"And you wanted me to bring him here," Jonno spoke his thoughts aloud. "So you could get started on the sacrifice."

"No!" Vlad countered.

Du Fortunesa resumed the lecture, tone dispassionate though his expression was tense, "There is a passage in the book of prophecy, it's never attracted much scholarly research, of breathers who can survive contact with the Crown. At least for a short time."

He couldn't see what du Fortunesa was getting at, why he was being told about some fairytale from the book of vampire prophecy. Vlad was the one to break the silence, tone slightly wild,

"Can't you understand? If we don't do something it's going to kill him anyway!"

* * *

Robin was still asleep when he got back, his mind still whirling. It wasn't true. It couldn't be.

Du Fortunesa had told him that the grip of the Crown was growing stronger with every moment that passed, that it knew the time of the Coronation was approaching. That if no action was taken Robin would drop dead the second the Crown was placed upon Vlad's head.

Vlad said there might be a way to counter it. A way that was equally as likely to result in Robin being six feet under before the month was out.

No, it was just a trick. There was nothing wrong with Robin.

Except it was all too obvious that there was. The casserole in the freezer looked a sorry affair, nothing like his father would have made, and Jonno suggested that they go out and get something to eat when Robin finally rejoined the land of the living.

They went somewhere far more upmarket than he normally would have, and his throat ached when Robin did nothing but push the food around the plate, though it was clear he was trying to eat, lest Jonno think he was being ungrateful.

He triple checked all the locks that night, along with the garlic and the crosses and the UV lamp they kept for emergencies. If Robin noticed anything unusual he didn't say so, and Jonno clutched him closer than was probably comfortable, to spend a sleepless night staring at the ceiling.

The following day Robin insisted on coming with him to collect everything on his mum's shopping list, and the normality settled his nerves somewhat. It was hard to believe anyone was capable of dying from some ancient prophecy in the dairy aisle of the local branch of Super Savers.

When he bumped into Aaron, quite literally with a clash of trolleys, next to the cereal it seemed kind of surreal that it was only days ago the idea of the other boy finding out about Robin was his most pressing concern. Robin looked at the ground, having already apologised for not thinking and making things difficult, though Jonno had meant it when he'd told him in response that he couldn't care less who knew about them.

Aaron made awkward small talk for a few minutes then made to leave before seemingly thinking better of it, and clapped his arm and said, pitched for his ears alone,

"It doesn't bother me, honestly. Each to their own, mate." And then, with a glance back at Robin, "Is he okay? He really doesn't look well, you know."

Robin did look awful, worse already than he had ten minutes ago. Jonno started to tell him that it wouldn't take much longer, and then he could go back to bed. Robin might have said something had he not swayed, once, twice, and collapsed face first to the floor.

People swarmed around them, watching, and Jonno felt frantically for a pulse, and only managed a full breath when Robin succeeded in opening his eyes and focussing on him. There was no choice, the knowledge dawned on him. He was going to have to tell Robin everything.


	4. Chapter 4

_One more chapter should do it, I think._

* * *

"You know I love you, don't you?" Jonno said, and even in the midst of dying from some ancient vampire curse Robin was perceptive enough to ask,

"What's wrong? What have you done, Jonno?"

Jonno squirmed. They were back in his bedroom, Robin bundled up under the blanket though he was still shivering. He was sat on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out how he was supposed to tell Robin that he had been lying to him since before the very first kiss they had shared together.

"I -" he was fidgeting, couldn't help himself. "There's something I haven't told you."

The bed dipped as Robin struggled to sit up, ignoring the way he fussed and tried to get him to lie back down, and Jonno thought about how he'd sooner have this conversation at any other time. How he would sooner never have it at all if it meant Robin would laugh at him like he was a nut job and leave him to it, like his mum had done to his father. Worse, if it meant that Robin recognised, instinctively, that he was telling the truth and hated him for lying to him. If he never forgave him.

"Do you remember Vlad Count?"

Robin's eyes narrowed; it was still something of a sore subject.

"He's at Garside Grange. I mean, he lives there. At the school." He couldn't look Robin in the face, didn't know how to get the full story out.

"And?" Robin managed, though he was so very pale, and Jonno could tell he was clenching his jaw, to keep his teeth from chattering. "Why should I care?"

Jonno didn't push it, though he had known Robin long enough to know when the other boy was lying to him. Perhaps Robin could do the same with him. The thought wasn't comforting.

"I don't want to make a threesome of it, if that's what you're suggesting," Robin said then, trying to make a joke of it. Jonno couldn't take it, just drew a sharp breath and blurted,

"He's a vampire."

* * *

"There's no such thing as vampires."

Robin had his eyes shut, a deep furrow between his brows from the confusion or the pain, Jonno wasn't sure. Likely a combination.

"I know it sounds mad," Jonno said, hurrying through the explanation now. They would be there within minutes. "But it's true. All of it. I'm so so sorry, Robin."

"It's not true," Robin whispered, one hand pushing into his hair as he curled in on himself. His skin was clammy now, and Jonno wished he had a better idea of what to do. If he was making the right decision by letting them try the ritual instead of ringing an ambulance. Kurt had told him to wait on the phone, not to do anything until someone from the Guild arrived. But he hadn't been able to, not when Robin was writhing in pain, and refusing point blank to engage with anything he was telling him.

"It's not true," Robin repeated, more to himself than to Jonno. "They're only nightmares."

Jonno didn't get chance to question further, not with the sound of impatient banging at the door that could only signal one thing.

"Everything's going to be alright. I promise."

If Robin heard him, he didn't answer.

* * *

Robin was laid out on a platform that looked entirely too much like the sacrificial alters in Robin's extensive collection of low budget B movies. There were candles everywhere, and the air was thick with smoke and the pungent scent of incense.

Du Fortunesa was doing nothing to dispel the similarity, advancing toward Robin with a glinting blade in one hand, and some crumbling old tome in the other.

"What if it doesn't work?" Jonno asked, heart hammering with a sickening mixture of fear and helplessness.

Vlad fixed him with a look that didn't need any words for him to interpret.

'It will be your fault, Van Helsing.'

* * *

"I must be mad," Jonno said, scrubbing his hands across his face. Robin was shut away down in that dank, airless room with two bloodthirsty vampires, and he was sat there accepting the Draculas' dubious hospitality.

"I've been certified seven times," Renfield told him proudly, and when Erin glared at him pointedly he scowled and dropped the tray down onto the bier serving as a coffee table, muttering, "Suit yourself then."

Erin moved to sit beside Jonno on the sofa. "Here, have some tea," she held out a cup and saucer. "It'll make you feel better."

Jonno shook his head, incredulous. "How do I know what they've put in it?"

Erin gave him a half smile, sympathetic. "If they wanted to kill you, they would have done it already."

The words stung; he had been nominated for most promising young slayer of the year when he was 16. He was perfectly capable of dusting a few vampires. Still he took the cup, pulling a face at the over sweetened liquid but draining it nonetheless. Just to prove he wasn't afraid to.

"You're wrong about Vlad," Erin said quietly. Jonno would have retorted unkindly, but Erin kept talking. "I," she paused and met his gaze. "I was supposed to be seducing you; collecting your secrets because the Guild would be able to tell if you were hypnotised." She smiled self-deprecatingly. "It obviously wasn't going as well as I thought it was."

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked, rather than acknowledge what she was telling him. That they had both been using each other, neither one getting anywhere. Erin touched his hand and stood,

"All of us are wrong sometimes."

* * *

Du Fortunesa was the one to tell him the rite was done. It was now a matter of waiting to see if it had worked. Jonno didn't wait for further explanations, just made his way by memory back to the room they had taken Robin to.

Kurt had rang him again, furious, and he knew he would be in trouble. Could even have his Guild membership stripped from him. Compared to the very real possibility of Robin dying it really paled into insignificance. He hoped his mother would understand.

He paused when he reached the room, the sound of a voice clear even through the imposing wooden door.

"I always wanted to go back," Vlad's voice was saying. "I never forgot about you."

Jonno pushed the door open and the vampire sprang to his feet, face averted as if he had been crying though Jonno couldn't credit the idea. Robin was still laying on the platform, limbs sprawled now rather than rigid with tension. His face looked calmer too and Jonno had to take a step forward, touch his fingers to Robin's hand, to prove that Robin was still alive - still breathing.

"I would never turn him," Vlad said, so that the emotion in his voice couldn't be mistaken. Jonno swallowed, the words wanting to stick in his throat but he forced them out all the same,

"Thank you."

* * *

He sat with Robin until the sun rose. Until both Kurt and his mother arrived, serious faced and disappointed, with a Guild doctor who prodded and poked and finally announced that whatever it was, medical science wasn't going to be able to help solve it. Du Fortunesa escorted them from the room before they could say their piece on his rashness and stupidity, and Jonno made the conscious decision not to think about how he was indebted to the vampire twice over.

Robin still hadn't moved, though his chest rose and fell rhythmically, and his skin was warm to the touch. Jonno pushed his hair back from his forehead, and told him over and over that he loved him, and that he had to wake up, and that he was sorry.

He was still there when Robin finally stirred, at first so subtly that he wasn't sure if he hadn't just imagined it. Then his fingers twitched again and Jonno watched with baited breath, not daring to move.

Robin opened his eyes, his gaze unfocussed, and whispered a word that felt like a punch to the gut.

_"Vlad."_


	5. Chapter 5

_Epilogue-y thing to come._

* * *

Jonno didn't consider himself the type for over emotionalism. As a slayer, the ability to stay calm and collected came with the job description, and he hadn't given into tears since the night following his father's funeral.

Yet there he was, sobbing like it was going out of fashion.

He hadn't been able to stay there, but he couldn't face going home to his mother's pity either. The rain was enough to keep the park mostly deserted, and he was sat with his feet up on the metal rungs of the bench and his hood up, apparently menacing enough to ensure the few people who did pass him kept their distance.

Robin had told him that he didn't want to see him. That he didn't know how he was supposed to trust him. Jonno hadn't even had an argument worth defending himself with.

Vlad had given him a look that was entirely too smug, as if the whole thing hadn't been his fault in the first place, and Erin had shown him to the door silently, as if neither of them trusted themselves to say anything.

It was late when he finally succeeded in finding the will to move, though the walk home was slow going, his heart heavy and his limbs protesting. He left his sodden clothes in a pile on his bedroom floor, and lay staring at the wall, his pillows and his blankets still smelling of Robin.

Sleep refused to come, despite the exhaustion, and it was almost dawn when he pulled all the bedding from the bed, and threw anything else that came to hand along with it. Then he succumbed to tears all over again, though he hadn't thought it possible.

"Perhaps it's for the best," his mum said later that morning, pressing a cup of tea into his hands and staying around to make sure he drank it.

"For which one of us?" Jonno asked, stubborn, and when there was no answer he knew what she was thinking.

It was all over, he just ought to accept it.

* * *

He wouldn't, he decided. He had watched his dad let his mother walk out of their life, too caught up in his calling to recognise what had been obvious to everyone. Robin might understand if he just explained, he told himself. He had nothing to lose from trying, at any rate.

"All your stuff was at mine," he said by way of justification, when du Fortunesa finally allowed him in to see him. Robin was looking so much better already, with colour in his cheeks and an awareness in his eyes that, now it was back, Jonno realised hadn't been there for a long time. "I never meant for you to find out like this."

"You never meant for me to find out at all," Robin countered, and Jonno felt sick to his stomach with the idea that there really was no coming back from this. "I don't even know you."

"But you know _him_," Jonno accused, because it all hurt too much, and Vlad would never treat Robin the way he did. Wouldn't drop anything and everything to be there for him, and wouldn't sit there pretending to be interested through the entirety of Bava's badly dubbed back catalogue. "I'd never desert you."

For a moment Robin looked shocked, uncertain, but then it was gone, replaced by an expression he found unreadable.

"Perhaps I don't want to know either of you."

And with that he was told in no uncertain terms that his visit was over.

* * *

"You have to go to school," his mum said when the half term holidays were over, and Robin had steadfastly ignored him when he had tried for a reconciliation on the platform before the train pulled in for Stokely, deluded by hour after hour of afternoon television.

Kurt told him that he ought to listen to his mother, as if Jonno couldn't tell what was between them, and why the man would argue her side of the case unthinkingly. Agent Palmer told him he needed to think of his mission, of his pledge to the calling.

"I don't have to do anything," he told all of them, and threw his schoolbooks one by one into the canal system, though it was nowhere near as a satisfying as he had hoped it would be.

"Nobody's worth this much aggro," Aaron told him when he ran out of reasons not to see him, and the words sunk in on some level, so that he finally returned one of Erin's calls and listened impassively as she told him,

"It's the Coronation tomorrow."

"I know," he answered, though in truth the fact had escaped him, and Erin snapped, frustrated, and said,

"Aren't you in the least bit concerned about it?"

"We're as ready as we'll ever be," Jonno said, because it was too late to worry about Guild secrets now. "I hope you've got a stake sharpened, just in case your boyfriend turns on you."

"It's your boyfriend you should be worried about," Erin argued, riled, and when his confusion became clear he heard her take a calming breath, before saying, "Didn't you know he's agreed to give blood at the ceremony?"

"He wouldn't have," Jonno said, stupidly.

He supposed he had earned it when Erin asked, curtly, "Told you that himself, did he?"

* * *

"You swear you haven't told anyone?" Erin demanded the instant he arrived at Garside, and Jonno shook his head, though he wasn't unprepared, and had an emergency signal booster because he wasn't in the mood to take chances.

"Why did you tell me?" Jonno asked in turn, and though she didn't answer, he could tell enough just by taking in her body language. It seemed even she wasn't immune to the bite of jealousy.

Her reasoning ceased to matter when he lay eyes on Robin, and even though his heart lurched it didn't stop his tirade. "What are you thinking? You almost died, you can't be well enough. How could you be so stupid?" And then, as the thought occurred to him, "I thought they didn't need a sacrifice, not now the curse is lifted."

"That's a separate sacrifice," Robin told him, adding, "and they're not going to take all my blood," like he was the stupid one.

Ingrid emerged from the shadows to stand beside him, so that Jonno's blood turned to ice at the sight of the proximity, and said, "I wanted to drain the slayer, but they can't use a girl's blood. It's tradition."

The idea crystalised in his mind almost as soon as it came to him, and du Fortunesa smiled coldly at him when he suggested it, exchanging calculating glances with first Vlad's father, and then his sister. Robin glared, and Erin protested, but his decision had been made. If it worked, he would get his place in the Guild textbooks, and if it went too far, well, it probably wasn't the best idea to dwell on it.

"I don't want you to do it," Robin told him minutes before the ceremony was about to start, and the air in the great hall was charged with anticipation.

"I'm not trying to steal your thunder," Jonno told him, because that was what the Robin he had known at 13 would have suspected, and that seemed to be where their relationship was at right now. Robin shook his head, eyes downcast, and then out of nowhere pressed his lips to his cheek and whispered,

"Please be careful."

There was no chance to say or do anything more because it had started, and du Fortunesa was shoving him up onto the platform, and sticking his bound wrists over what looked like a witches cauldron, and blathering something in Latin which, whatever it meant, sounded far from comforting.

"Haven't used a slayer's blood in centuries," someone murmured in the crowd, and Jonno suddenly wanted to tell them that he'd changed his mind, and that really he couldn't spare even a couple of pints after all. But it was too late, and he risked a glance at the blade before wishing he hadn't, the pain quickly flaring, and burning, dancing up and down his arms until finally, thankfully, nothing.

* * *

"Jonno."

He was floating, aimless, and it was so calm and peaceful he wasn't entirely certain he ever wanted to wake up from it.

"Jonno."

The voice came again, along with a touch to his arm, and the realisation that he could feel his arm was enough to jar him out of the darkness, and arrive blinking into the real world.

"Thank God," Robin said, followed swiftly by, "I told you I didn't want you to do it."

"I wasn't going to let them touch you," Jonno argued, though his throat hurt, and his head hurt, and his back ached just for good measure.

"You really wouldn't have, would you?" Robin asked, like he didn't expect an answer, and just as a thousand times before, the way he smiled was enough for Jonno's insides to twist around and make him forget what he was supposed to be annoyed about. "You should get some more rest," Robin told him then, in a tone inherited straight from his mother. "I'm not going anywhere."

Jonno was out of it even before he had finished speaking.

* * *

When he woke again it was full daylight, and he was in his bed at the flat, with Robin slumped on the floor beside him, head resting on the mattress, snoring.

Jonno flexed his fingers experimentally, and eyed up the almost healed wounds with a grimace. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he seemed to remember du Fortunesa's spit being liberally applied across his wrist. The best course of action, he decided, would be not to think about it.

There were other things he really did need to think about though. Like whether Vlad had survived the ceremony, and if he had whether the vampire world was going to take orders from him.

"It's alright," Robin said when he tried to scrabble for his phone, remarkably alert although his hair was sticking up everywhere. "It went fine. Your mam's on the warpath though." Robin moved to sit on the edge of the bed, answered his unspoken question with, "I needed to think. It was a big shock."

Jonno took his hand, relieved when Robin let him. "Why did you agree to let them, you know," he found he couldn't finish the sentence. Having his own arm drained was one thing; imagining the same thing happening to Robin's was apparently quite another. Robin squeezed his fingers,

"Because Vlad was my best friend." He looked down, "Because I wanted to be able to mean something to him. I suppose that sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

He didn't say anything, uncertain what Robin was trying to tell him. His heart was racing in his chest, and he still felt weak and dizzy. Robin met his gaze again, determined,

"Because I wanted to make you jealous, and pay you back for lying to me."

"I'm really sorry," he began, again, but Robin cut him off.

"I thought you were dead. There was so much blood." Robin trailed off and then shifted closer, kissed him on the cheek the way he had before the ceremony began. "You can't keep things from me, alright?"

Jonno grinned, couldn't help himself, and wrapped his arms around Robin, so that the other boy gave in and lay down next to him.

"This doesn't mean you're forgiven," Robin told him, serious, and Jonno pulled him closer, sleep already calling, and promised,

"I'll make it up to you."


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mr. Branagh said, posture stiff though there was real concern in his tone. "You don't need to rush into anything."

"Dad," Robin sighed, sounding exasperated. "I'm moving to Cardiff, not the other side of the world."

Jonno smiled at the sight, visible through the ajar door, before rapping at the door panel to announce his presence. Mr. Branagh flustered slightly, but Robin just beamed in his direction.

His mum had given him the same kind of talk, though had dismissed every comment he had on the topic of Kurt moving in with her. It was sweet really, because Mr. Branagh had already lived through years of Robin spending months at a time at the university's halls of residence.

"We're always at the end of the telephone," Mr. Branagh said, obviously intended for Robin's ears alone, before saying his goodbyes and leaving them to it.

"_Are_ you sure you want to do this?" Jonno asked once they were truly alone, running his hand up Robin's arm with a thrill that there were no parents or siblings or housemates likely to barge in on them.

"What do you think?" Robin answered in turn, eyes dark so that Jonno couldn't help but tug him closer.

"I never thought we'd get this far," he said, and Robin raised an eyebrow and quipped,

"That's charming,"

Though he knew exactly what he was talking about.

It hadn't been straightforward, and it hadn't been easy, but nothing was worth having if it wasn't also worth fighting for. At least that was what Mrs. Branagh - Elizabeth - had told him when he had had no-one else to confide the basics of the problem in, and it looked as though Robin was never going to be able to let go of his deception enough to fully forgive him.

"What if you had been killed?" Robin had said one night, when he didn't know if he could take any more of the strange distance between them. "What if some vampire had overpowered you? What if they do in the future?"

He hadn't had an answer, but something changed regardless. They stopped tiptoeing around the subject, and he stopped feeling constantly guilty, though it still played on his mind, every time they had an argument.

"I was never sure you'd pick me," he said in the present, because he had never said it in so many words, and they were finally in a place where he trusted completely that he could tell Robin anything. Robin settled for kissing him, soundly, before smiling, pleased.

"You should know me better. There's no getting rid of me!"


End file.
